


Pinescone Week Drabbles

by Alopex



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Demonic Possession, Drabble, Drabble Collection, M/M, Memory Loss, Sleepy Cuddles, bill makes a cameo, pinescone week, trans headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alopex/pseuds/Alopex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles for Pinescone week. Posted here in one place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roommates Share a Bed Sometimes, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 - Roommates AU
> 
> summary: unexpected roommates AU
> 
> tumblr:  
> day 1: http://obsidianchameleon.tumblr.com/post/129049102850/pinescone-week-day-1-roommates  
> day 2: http://obsidianchameleon.tumblr.com/post/129114012905/pinescone-week-day-2-au  
> day 3: http://obsidianchameleon.tumblr.com/post/129184737965/pinescone-week-day-3
> 
> Sorry for typos. These are all written and edited in one day, so they're a little rough.

The typical sounds of a college dorm stirring to life on a Saturday morning woke Wirt from what was the heaviest slumber he’d had in weeks. He stared at the ceiling blankly as the last remnants of sleep left him; something seemed slightly off about the room. Based on the posters on the walls, it was his dorm, but it was as though he woke up on the wrong side of it, or as though he was still dreaming.

Too warm to care, Wirt shifted against the weight pressed against his side, reveling in the warmth it brought.

Wait, warmth?

He turned his head, finding his roommate still sleeping soundly right beside him. Wirt could only see his unruly auburn hair and the slow rise and fall of his back. A simultaneous thrill of panic and of contentedness ran through him. Wirt suddenly recalled the previous night. They were laying on Dipper’s bed, just talking and joking around, and must have passed out at the same time. He had no idea how to handle such a situation. Should he leave before his roommate woke? He would, were he not pressed tightly between a wall and a body that was more or less also a wall.

Though they had only been rooming for about a month now, Wirt could feel the undeniable tension between him and Dipper. So  _maybe_  he had a little crush, but he could not for the life of him tell if Dipper felt the same way. He didn’t wish to sabotage the friendship they built, so he kept his feelings discreet.

Yet waking up next to him felt so strange. So surprising. So comforting. Even though the twin sized bed barely fit the two, it felt way cozier than sleeping on his own side of the room.

Friends shared a bed sometimes, right?

As Wirt wrestled with his thoughts, Dipper suddenly moved, turning his head to stare at Wirt with sleepy and confused amber eyes.

“Hey.”

“M-morning,” Wirt replies weakly, squirming under the blanket to make room.

“Did we fall asleep like this?” Dipper asks with amusement.

“Apparently.” Wirt bit his lip subconsciously.

Dipper stretches like a cat, then turns onto his side to gaze at Wirt. “Your hair is cute when it sticks up like that.”

Face flushing pink, Wirt reaches up to pat his hair down, embarrassedly averting his eyes. "How was your sleep?” He responds instead.

“Slept like a  _log._ Haven’t slept this well in weeks.”

“Me too, actually.”

“Maybe we should sleep like this more often, huh?” Dipper teases, quirking an eyebrow. Wirt smiled back, his heart fluttering as the prospect of them being more than roommates became just a little more plausible. 


	2. A Pesky Possession Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - AU
> 
> AU - Wirt has a little problem in the form of a pesky demon coming to possess him every so often, often at the most inopportune of times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. smol Wirt and our favorite triangular asswipe. they’re like 22+ here. iffy sfw, but warnings for makeouts and teasing. ((i picked this au because Wirt and Bill are two of my strongest muses and I love any excuse to write both at the same time)) ((also this might taste like b/i/ll/d/ip but i assure you i’m not taking this all the way down that route))

One minute they were deeply engaged in a recently released action film, and the next they were grappling for each other, a friendly wrestling match interspersed with kisses and loving bites.

Well, neither had particularly great attention spans, at least not around each other.

With a playful snarl, Dipper wrenches out of Wirt’s grip, rolling him onto his back and pinning him by the wrists. Wirt struggles, but finds it futile to resist Dipper’s powerful hold. After all, Dipper was half a head taller than him, with a chest twice as wide. He was outmatched by the renowned monster hunter and part-time novelist, but he still presses his knees into Dipper’s stomach to let him know he wasn’t giving up yet. A firm kick would surely knock the wind out of him, but Wirt had no intention of following through.

Even while roughhousing, the two possess a remarkable, unmatched gentleness towards each other.

“Got ya,” Dipper smirks, triumphantly ignoring the legs pressed against his abdomen. He reaches down to kiss the tip of Wirt’s nose, then promptly releases his wrists. Wasting no time, Wirt wraps his arms around the other, feeling suddenly rather tired. The movie still playing from the laptop catches his eye, and he leans over to pause it and carefully move the device to a bedside table before turning his attention back to Dipper.

They kiss again, this time slowly and at a leisurely pace. Wirt ducks down, trailing his lips down his stubbly chin to his neck, kissing his collarbone tenderly. Without warning, he clamps on painfully with his teeth, causing Dipper to yelp loudly.

Licking his lips, Wirt slowly looks up at Dipper through half-lidded, now cat-like eyes.

Dipper shoves him away, nearly sending him flying off the bed.

Wirt was not a fool by any means, and his sense of reason usually surpassed any valiance, but even he managed to be tricked by Bill with false promises of keeping his loved one safe. Instead, he now found himself terrorized by a demon, never knowing when his body would be snatched from him. Thankfully, it was a rare happenstance, but it always seemed to be during a rather awkward time.

Strangely, it was more of a taunt than a ploy to get something substantial out of Wirt (or Dipper, for that matter), but it was frustrating nonetheless.

A lazy grin was plastered on Wirt’s face, an expression Dipper never sees on him except for when Bill takes over.

“So, tell me, did ya miss me?” Bill asks sweetly in Wirt’s voice, albeit with a slight, just-barely discernible echo. “You don’t have to lie.”

“Bill! Get out of there,” Dipper groans.

“Make me, kid. I wanna have some fun, too!”

“No, you don’t. Now leave before I punch you right outta there!”

Bill laughs, throwing his head back. “Right! Like you’d beat up the body of your favorite boy toy.”

“Don’t call him that!” Dipper cringes, clenching his fists. “I’ll- I’ll exorcise you! Right now!”

Leaning in before Dipper has a chance to move, Bill places a hand on the man’s chest, fingers slowly trailing down the plaid cloth of his shirt. “Now why would you do such a terrible thing?”

Dipper’s breath hitches uncomfortably in his throat. This was wrong, so very wrong, and yet there still _was_ an alluring spark to it. After all, it was Wirt’s hand, Wirt’s _body_ that was touching him right now.

He shook the thought. No, this was _wrong_. That _wasn’t_ Wirt.

Right on cue, a tiny sock puppet flies into the room. Having dealt with this before, a small vessel was always kept in the house in case this happened. At the very least, it gave Wirt a way to communicate whenever he lost his body.

“B-Bill! Come on, not now,” Wirt pleads, the little puppet flailing in midair. “Go awa- _w-what_ are you doing?!”

“It’s not what it looks like! He’s being weird!” Dipper stammers, sticking his arm out to keep Bill from getting closer.

“We’re just having fun! What, don’t you wanna see how gross you two look from the side?” Bill mocks, casting a dirty look in Wirt’s direction. Wirt covers his face in shame, and Bill cackles, shoving a stunned Dipper backwards against the bed.

He clambers over Dipper ungracefully, still getting used to the body. Dipper, on the other hand, is lying motionless, afraid to so much as lift a finger. Bill teases, “Enjoying the show?”

“Not one bit,” Dipper grits out.

Bill grins silently for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Hah, what are you expecting? For me to continue what you two were doing? That’s disgusting!”

With Bill distracted, Dipper slowly moves his hands upwards, tracing over Wirt’s - Bill’s? - hips until he had a firm grip. Without a word, he rolls the demon over onto his back and takes hold of his forearms, looming over him with a furious gaze in a pose he was just in not even five minutes ago. “Give Wirt his body back.”

“Maybe, if you ask nicely,” Bill leers, lifting a leg to press into his gut but instead accidentally rubs it against Dipper’s crotch. A jolt of arousal rushes to Dipper’s hips, but he bites his lips and ignores the friction.

“Now!”

“Uh-uh! What did I say about manners?”

Dipper rolls his eyes. “Please,” he huffs.

“What was that?” Bill asks, tilting his head as he inadvertently rubs through Dipper’s pants again.

“P-please.” The word was only a little more sincere, but unintentionally breathy, growing all the more desperate.

“That’s better!”

Wirt’s body collapses suddenly, then stirs as the proper soul returns to it. He blinks a few times, his slit pupils changing back to their proper shape. Fatigue overcomes him, and he slumps under Dipper’s hold.

“Wirt!” Dipper yelps, scooping the man in his arms, rapidly pressing a hundred small kisses to his cheeks. “God, this always freaks me out so much. I’m so afraid that one day, I’ll lo- I’ll lose-”

Wirt cuts him off by pressing his lips gently against the other’s. “You won’t. We’ll figure this out, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Dipper chokes out. “I-I’m sorry about this, I never meant for this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” Wirt soothes. “Really. It’s my fault. I-I’m the one who messed up in the first place.”

“And I’m the one who lets him do this! I really gotta find a good ward against this,” Dipper muses, starting to get up but Wirt clasps his hand, urging him to stay.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure it out later. I know you can,” Wirt reassures. “But for now, let’s just go to bed."


	3. I Remember Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Older Gnome Prince au where Dipper and Wirt are both 20.
> 
> Summary: after having spent years with the gnomes, Wirt regains his lost memories thanks to an unlikely stranger, and is convinced to return back to society. ((this started to get long, I’m sorry. I’d honestly write more if I had the time.))

For five years, Wirt had been living in the woods with the gnomes, away from what he remembered was called ‘society.’ For five years, his memory had been fading rapidly until he couldn’t even recall his past life. Unsure as to whether it was fate or a curse, he could only accept whatever happening to him.

He held a simple yet pampered life, and it wasn’t unpleasant by any means. Peculiar company, magical food, and a whole band of people who were eager to serve his every whim made life rather interesting. He was, after all, their Prince, or so they called him, someone who was supposed to help these minuscule people.

Still, each week he went out into the woods (accompanied by a faithful entourage, of course), searching for something that would remind him of his past, but the enchantments that bound him to the gnomes were powerful, and he had no idea how to break them.

Thus the years passed, never boring, but never quite what Wirt had hoped in terms of what he wanted out of life.

Then came Dipper, brought by the gnomes against his will (and against Wirt’s instruction to bring him any more suitors). The gnomes’ habits were difficult to break, but his morality remained strong, and he simply couldn’t keep the suitors there.

Wirt first found Dipper on the ground of the main clearing, furiously fighting his binds until the gnomes freed him as to per Wirt’s request, who all the while apologized profusely for the inconvenience. Of course, he had every intention to send him off to where he came from right away, but despite his initial protests, upon laying eyes on Wirt, Dipper seemed suddenly reluctant to leave, asking if he could even stick around for the day. Research, he claimed, but Wirt couldn’t help but notice his lingering gaze.

At first, the stranger wandered the meadow, inspecting the gnomes’ residence and taking careful notes and measurements of structures and disgruntled specimens. Wirt watched curiously from the sidelines, finding himself drawn to him, unlike the rest of the kidnapped suitors the gnomes would haul in.

Finally, Wirt had the nerve to approach Dipper, striking up what he hoped was a casual conversation. Dipper seemed wary; apparently, his sister had been captured many years ago, though that must’ve happened before Wirt came into the picture. Eventually, the man relaxed enough to talk more about his life. Wirt listened with interest at his lengthy tale, fascinated with his experiences. Despite living in the woods, he hadn’t come across a quarter of the monsters and magic Dipper described. However, no matter how much Dipper prodded, Wirt was reluctant to open up about his own past, primarily because he couldn’t recall much of it.

They talked late into the night, and Wirt convinced Dipper to stay and rest. Only after they were situated in front of a crackling fireplace deep within one of the caverns did Dipper finally managed to pressure Wirt into confessing his tale.

“I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?!”

“I just remember that at one point, I started living with the gnomes. They took me to be some kind of savior or royalty. Before then, I have no idea where or who I was.”

Dipper squints skeptically. “I don’t believe you. How can you just forget most of your life?”

Wirt shrugs.

“Is it an enchantment?”

“Probably.”

“It’s gotta be that,” Dipper states. His eyes suddenly glint mischievously. “You know, I’m sort of an expert on spells and magic. Maybe I could help you remember!”

Wirt blinks. “Th-that would be so kind, but I’m fine, I don’t want you to feel obli-”

“Nonsense,” Dipper grins smugly, slapping an arm on Wirt’s shoulder. “It’s what I do. I’d be glad to help.”

Looking up with hopeful eyes, Wirt replies, “Thank you.”

They sat in silence in front of the fireplace. It had been long since Wirt entertained the company of a fellow human, but he found his presence more comforting than anything else in his forest home.

–

It took two entire days for Dipper to come up with an algorithm to his problem, and three more to gather the materials. Thankfully, the gnomes were more than willing to help under Wirt’s command, which certainly sped up the process. Wirt didn’t tell them why they were looking for magical herbs and objects, as he feared the gnomes would forbid him to do it. He may have been their ruler, but he was never very firm in his rule.

Dipper instructed Wirt to stand in a circle he had scrawled into the dirt, then proceeded to chant in Latin. It was much less grand than Wirt expected it to be, feeling only a slight warmth surrounding him.

“There. Hopefully that’ll unlock your memories.”

“T-that was it?”

“Yeah. Magic isn’t always about flashing lights and pretty colors. Now, don’t try to remember everything at once, though; you’ll get overwhelmed.”

Wirt blinked, not feeling any different at first. Then came a few flashes of a faraway place, of faces that were familiar.

_Greg._

“Greg!” Wirt proclaimed. “I-I remember Greg! He’s… He’s my brother. Half-brother. Oh my god, I haven’t seen him in five years. And my parents, too!”

Wirt babbles to himself as the strongest recollections come to mind, dropping to the ground as he tries not to succumb to the overwhelming wave of emotion and memories. Dipper walks over, placing a comforting hand on his back. He’d seen people with major memory loss recall their experiences, which was never an easy process.

“Here. I can take you back to the Shack, and from there we can contact your family,” Dipper assures him. Wirt nods weakly, a look of gratefulness in his wet eyes.

–

After much convincing and the appointment of Schmebulock the Third as successor, Wirt was finally relinquished of his duties. He spent at least three hours saying his final goodbyes, Dipper noted, and he must’ve formed a rather strong attachment to them despite having been bewitched. 

With a final promise to visit often, Wirt follows Dipper through the woods towards his home, who was thankfully very familiar with the area. Each step brought a new wave of memories, certain colors spurring recollections he had no idea were in his mind. The mountains in the distance reminded him of a backpacking trip, a gurgling creek made him remember the one by his house back home.

There was one sight, a small bluebird in the bushes, that made him uneasy, but he couldn’t for the life of him attribute it to a specific memory.

The Shack itself brought the most of his past life back, hitting him like a wall. In fact, Dipper had to drag him over to an armchair before he could collapse to the floor, then rushed off to bring him a glass of water while he recalled his past rapidly. Thankfully, he was currently the only inhabitant of the Shack, Ford being off on his own research while Grunkle Stan and Mabel jointly ran a small business in a nearby, larger town.

Not knowing what to do to help him, Dipper suggested Wirt share his experiences, partially as a way for Wirt to let it out, and partially because he was genuinely, secretly curious about his life. For the second night in a row, they talked deep into the night as the former prince came to terms with his true identity. He talked about his school, his family, his crushes (at which Dipper felt a completely inexplicable pang of jealousy at), recounting what he had faced. His life was one of normalcy, completely detached from the magic of his past.

They moved up to Dipper’s bedroom up in the attic, Wirt glancing around curiously.

“Here, this is better than a lamp,” Dipper states, going to light the lantern always on his desk. Not only did it save electricity, but he loved the ambiance it gave. However, upon laying eyes on the tarnished lantern, Wirt freezes.

 _The Unknown, the Beast, the terrible, terrible cold of winter. The lantern… No, that can’t be_ his _lantern, he’s long gone, get a grip, Wirt._ He stood paralyzed as the final missing piece of his memories fell into place, crumpling to the ground.

“W-Wirt, are you okay?” Dipper stutters, rushing over to help Wirt. He sets him down on his bed, a gentle hand on his back. Finally, after a long silence, Wirt spoke, his memories of the Unknown pouring out in an uninterrupted stream of consciousness. His pallid blue eyes took on a hollow appearance, the trauma from the ordeal clearly evident.

“I can’t believe I forgot about that,” Wirt muttered finally, visibly upset. “It gave me nightmares for months to come.”

“Trust me, you’re not alone with things like that. Hell, I can’t sleep thanks to literal demons who visit me at night.”

Wirt gave a small smile, somehow knowing he’d found a kindred spirit.

They finally settled in, facing each other on opposite beds. Dipper gazed at Wirt, who was now wearing one of Mabel’s old (and slightly less garish) sweaters, his small hands clasped around a steaming mug of tea, and found himself quite at home with that picture. He looked so lost, so forlorn, yet so sweet.

Attractive, too.

“Y'know… You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. As long as  _you’d_  like, at least. I don’t wanna keep you here,” Dipper corrects himself, embarrassed. He didn’t want to keep the man who had just gotten out of a captive situation. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of that.”

Wirt looked up at the burly man, noting the softness of his expression, and a tint of pink flushed his cheeks. Dipper certainly was quite the change from his previous company, and there was something that drew him in. Sure, he wanted to reconnect with his family again, but part of him wanted to learn more about Dipper. Besides, he promised the gnomes he’d visit. Just another reason to stay here for a while.

God, how embarrassing. He’d been himself for a mere few hours and he was already on a romantic spree. How typical of him.

“I’ll gladly take you up on that offer." 


	4. Constricted Breaths from Fear, and Something Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Fear/Insecurities/Flaws  
> be prepared for sad trans headcanons (i promise a happy end), college au  
> (warning for internalized self-hatred)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: certain tidbits of this were from personal experience, so I don't mean to trivialize anyone else's coming out story, gender, or sexual identity, or make it out to be that everyone is filled with internalized hatred towards themselves. Everyone views themselves in different ways, and sometimes it takes people a little longer to love themselves.

Three weeks had passed since their first date and first confessions of feelings, and only a meager six had passed since they'd first met. Their meeting was one of sheer chance via mutual friends of mutual friends, yet they clicked quickly, becoming fast friends. 

After their first time hanging out, Wirt realized he felt more comfortable around the man than he had around any of his other peers. After their second, he felt something stir in his heart, though he tried to squash it - crushes were never a good thing. After their third, he gave in to his romantic antics internally, though remained outwardly silent about them. He was still in the closet when it came to the majority of his peer group, and he was just too shy to ever mention it even to people he trusted.

He was lucky Dipper was more forward; their fourth time spending time together was an actual date, and Wirt's reservations slowly crumbled away.

Just weeks later and they were the star couple of their friend group, always being told how cute and innocent they were together. Truly, they were the definition of innocent (at least within a college standpoint), never going past shy kisses and hugs. Wirt was too hesitant, and Dipper didn't wish to push him into uncomfortable levels of physical contact. It was still a little early, after all.

It wasn't the textbook aversion to intimacy, however. Wirt wanted contact, that was for sure, but he was terrified of Dipper's reaction to his biggest insecurity.

His biggest flaw, he grimaced as he so much as thought about it.

He liked Dipper too much. He didn't want to lose him so soon, not because of this.

But, Wirt mused, he had to tell Dipper someday. It wasn't as though he could hide it forever.

Even if he knew he would probably lose him because of it. After all, who valued petty  _feelings_  over something as important as physical intimacy.

They had fallen into a rhythm during the school week, and tonight was an evening where they would huddle on Dipper's bed, each plowing through their homework. Of course Dipper, being the tease he was, had managed to coax Wirt into taking a short break with a tender bite and kiss on his neck. Wirt's pushover tendencies had carried over the years, and he eagerly reciprocated the attention.

After making out for a few minutes, Dipper discreetly slips his hands under Wirt's shirt for the first time, fingertips ghosting over his sides, at which Wirt freezes and pulls away. Dipper withdraws, instantly giving Wirt his space, who looked as though he was about to cry.

"I-I'm sorry, Wirt, I should've asked," Dipper consoles. "I know it's not an easy subject for you. It's okay."

Wirt wiped away a stray tear, heart thrumming in his chest madly, guilty of worrying his boyfriend, and guiltier of what was stopping him in the first place.

He couldn't hide forever, though. 

Perhaps it was time for him to bite the bullet and fess up. His gut twisted at the sincerity of Dipper's apology, but he was terrified the man would take his words back as soon as Wirt disclosed. Still, he couldn't string him along forever, it wasn't fair to him regardless of how Wirt felt.

"Dip, th-there's something I need to tell you," Wirt manages. His heart rate sped up to the point he started getting dizzy, his breathing constricted and uneven.

"Are you a vampire? Because I already knew that," Dipper teases coyly, then catches himself, falling into a more serious air. "I'm sorry. What is it?"

Wirt chuckles at Dipper's ability to remain lighthearted, sniffling a bit. "I- I uh," he starts, but his words catch in his throat. Hands tremoring and throat locking up, he decides that it's best to just show Dipper. Swallowing thickly, he pulls his shirt up, anxiety instantly flooding him. He treats it like a bandage, ripping it off quickly to reveal a gray chest binder. Instinctually, he shields his chest, drawing his knees in. He shuts his eyes, not wanting to see Dipper's face, which he assumed was a look of disgust.

"I'm sorry I never told you and I'm sorry for this being so sudden and- and- I didn't want you to hate me and leave me and I know I'm disgusting and terrible, I un-understand if you want to go and-" The words spill uncontrollably and unintelligibly out of his mouth, and at this point he's sobbing, staring at a spot on the ground, making sure his gaze is averted. He loathes himself in that moment, hating himself for hiding his biological sex from Dipper and despising himself for being that way in the first place. Regret consumes him, why did he ever have to tell Dipper, why did he even allow someone to get close to him when he  _knows_  it will backfire. 

He's expecting Dipper to just leave the room, but instead he feels a comforting touch on his back, over his binder, the piece of cloth that has both cures his dysphoria yet causes him the most insecurity.

"Wirt. It's okay."

Wirt shakes his head in denial, burying his face in his knees.

"Wirt," Dipper repeats, laying both hands on his shoulders to still him. "I promise you, it's fine. Here, look."

The poet looks up with teary eyes, his vision blurred as he watches Dipper tug off his own shirt. To his amazement, Dipper points two scars under his chest, which he instantly recognizes as top surgery scars.

"I'm sorry I waited to tell you, but since we're both sharing secrets tonight..."

Without a word, Wirt collapses into Dipper's arms, holding him close, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Despite his skills in language, he's unable to express how he feels, staring blankly at the bare chest he's pressed to. A chest more similar to his than any other.

"I know you're scared, Wirt. It's okay. I've been there," Dipper murmurs, rubbing circles into the small of Wirt's back. "But you don't have to be scared with me."

Wirt nods, and coughs from having cried so much, clutching onto Dipper tighter. He'd spend so much of his life in quiet terror, but maybe he could finally find peace of mind with himself.


End file.
